


Show Me Slowly

by MsBrightsideSH



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Cooking classes, F/F, Femslash February, Sorry?, Valentine's Day, i swear this doesn't get kinky, knife classes, stupid cupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBrightsideSH/pseuds/MsBrightsideSH
Summary: Ari learns how to be a Chef in Paris, the only thing she's really lacking are knife skills. Who better to help her out than Mal? Of course, things go a little differently than expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenThayet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/gifts).



> This is my Stupid Cupid fic for QueenThayet, whose prompt was 'tweet'.  
> She asked for either Ari/Mal or Arthur/Eames and while of course I couldn't resist to write femslash in FemslashFebruary, I put in a tiny glimpse of our two favourite boys, just because.  
> Also, there has been no research done for this fic. I'm sorry, I usually would have (especially when it's something to make google uneasy ;)) but I just didn't have the time.  
> So this is, exactly as advertised, just a stupid little cupid fic. With sexy times.
> 
> Thanks a million to kate_the_reader, for betaing and brainstorming. You rock!

"This is...unacceptable."   
Ari swallowed and looked at Dominic Cobb, head chef of one of the most prestigious restaurants in Paris, and her teacher for the year. Also, as it turned out, a huge asshole.   
"Ariadne, this is an international programme for the gifted, not a butchering course in 1789."   
Ari cleared her throat, trying to keep her temper in check.   
"I, uh, I know. Sir."   
Cobb squinted at her.   
"I'm very close to giving up on you. Only your various recommendations," his eyes flitted to her chest," are keeping me from throwing you out of this class. You have to work harder. Find a weekend course on knife skills."   
Ari nodded, not trusting her voice. The meat she had sliced perhaps wasn't  _ perfect, _ but it certainly didn't call for a reaction like that. Whatever. She stuck her tongue out at Cobb as he turned his back and resolved herself to spending the night on the computer, searching for available courses.   
  
That evening found Ari unsure of what to even type into the search bar. Her first try, out of 'knives, saturdays, paris' had been unsuccessful, mostly just advice as to where to buy knives.   
She added 'classes' and listlessly scrolled down the page when suddenly,  something caught her eye.   
"Mal, knives and other useful skills, classes on Saturdays"   
The description was promising. Ari clicked the link, which led to a twitter, Mal@canttouchthis.   
Ari had to give her mental points for the name.   
  
She looked through the tweets, which were mostly pictures of various knives, with comments by this Mal. Even though Ari had never had a huge interest in knives, she was gripped instantly.   
Perhaps it was the way Mal wrote about the knives, intelligently, informative yet with a dry wit that Ari found impressive, considering the character limit.   
What really caught her attention though, were the pictures.   
They were clearly taken with a good camera, but still taken by an amateur. The hands cradling the knives were...elegant. The fingers, oh, Ari would have dreams about those fingers, that much was for sure.    
She admired picture after picture until she came upon a contact sheet. Ari licked her lips, but it was for college, after all, so what harm could there be in going to a class? Just to have a look?   
Without thinking about it for much longer, she signed up for a first free class on the next Saturday. 

 

Ari arrived at the class early, nervously playing with the strap of her bag.

The building looked very different from every culinary school classroom Ari had ever been in, but then, it was only knife skills.

Perhaps it wasn't as important to have every inch covered in chrome, as long as you had a hard surface, and enough material to practise on. She certainly welcomed the break from all the pretentious glass and metal stuff.

 

Ari turned around when she heard steps behind her. A thin guy with a brown leather jacket and slicked back black hair came towards her. She smiled at him. He frowned. Wonderful. 

“Hi,” Ari tried. “I’m Ariadne, I’m here for Mal’s knife class.”

He looked her up and down.

“You?” he asked, in a tone of voice that was pretty insulting. “Sure?”

Ari puffed herself up (not that it helped much) and stared right back at him.

“Yes, I’m sure.”   
The guy raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything else.

Next to arrive was a man wearing only a wife beater (in January, seriously?) which showed off his huge arms, covered in tattoos. He smiled at Ari.

“Hi, I'm Eames. You starting here?”

Ari smiled back. “Yeah, saw the class on Twitter, and I was interested. I’m still mostly missing knife skills in my repertoire.”

“Well, I’m sure Mal can help you there,” Eames said. “Arthur here,” he nodded at the rude guy, “was absolutely  _ hopeless _ with knives before Mal started teaching us all.”

Arthur scoffed. “As if you were any better when you started.” 

Eames shrugged, still grinning. “Anyway, Yusuf and Saito should be here any minute. Mal is usually a little late.”

“What, it's just the four of you she teaches?” Ari asked, feeling a bit nervous now. She'd kind of hoped to be able to disappear in a larger group.

Her usual classes consisted of at least 20 pupils, often more. 

“Don't worry,” Eames said reassuringly. “We'll all go easy on you. And I’m sure Mal will be … delighted to teach you.”

Perhaps Ari imagined it, but for a second she thought that Eames’ eyes flitted up and down her body in a rather suggestive way. She remembered tweeted pictures of long, slender fingers and had to suppress a little shiver.

 

Yusuf and Saito did turn up in the next few minutes. Yusuf had curly hair and an open, friendly face, and he was the only one of the four who actually looked like someone Ari would trust with food. Saito looked dangerous, in a subtle and understated way. He didn't frown like Arthur, but stayed quiet, just looking at Ari from dark eyes. 

Before she could get even more nervous, though, there were steps behind them. They all turned and there she was. Mal, approaching them in beautiful high heels that would have broken Ari’s feet for sure, her smile as sharp as the knives she was presumably carrying in the bag over her shoulder.

“ _ Bonjour, mes chères _ ,” she said in a throaty voice that sent a tingle through Ari. Mal was even more stunning than she could have imagined from her hands.

“And who are you,” Mal said, not quite a question. Her gaze seemed to take all of Ari in, sweeping her up and down like Arthur and Eames before. This time, however, Ari felt like she was really being looked at, not simply sized up. She swallowed. 

“I’m Ariadne,” she introduced herself. 

“I study under Dom Cobb. He recommended I work on my knife skills, so … here I am.”

A tiny crease had appeared on Mal’s forehead. “Dom Cobb? He's that snooty cook,  _ non _ ? Always squinting.”

Ari giggled despite herself. 

“Yup, he's the one.”

The crease on Mal’s forehead deepened. “Did he send you here?”

“Well, no, I looked on the internet for classes and I found your Twitter …”

Ari started to feel that she was missing something important.

Mal was quiet for a beat or two, then she said, “Ariadne. I'm sorry to say,  _ ma chère _ , but this is not a cooking class. It's a fighting course.”

 

Ari gaped at Mal. She could hear someone laugh quietly behind her, but didn't look around.

“Um, I’ll just … go then, I guess?”

“ _ Non, non, non,  _ why would you do that?” Mal kept fixing her with her eyes, and Ari couldn't look away.

“You look like you could do with some fighting experience, Ariadne.”

The way she said Ari’s name …

“Come on, Ari,” Eames said behind her, breaking the spell. “It's fun, you know.”

Ari blinked, then nodded. “It's worth a try?”

“ _ Oui,”  _ Mal agreed, quietly, almost privately, despite them being surrounded by people. Her eyes still hadn't left Ari’s.

 

Once they were in the gym, Ari quickly lost her nervousness. She'd never done anything resembling this, and she found to her own surprise that she liked it. Not only that, she was  _ good _ at it, too.

During the first class, Mal introduced her to the different ways of holding a knife and Ari thought that she could still feel the touch of those fingers hours later, when she was back home and filled out the form to sign up for the class on a regular basis. 

 

Saturdays started being the highlight of her week (more than Saturdays already were).

After she had gotten over her initial awkwardness, she learned rapidly, not just from Mal but from the others, too.

Arthur and Eames were amazing to watch, the way they twirled around each other more a dance than anything else. She wasn't sure what surprised her more, the way bulky Eames moved with such grace or the way stuck-up Arthur seemed to transform into something fluid and razor sharp.

Saito still scared her a little, but his knowledge of ancient Japanese knife fighting was so extensive that everyone, even Mal, listened enraptured when he started talking.

Yusuf was plain nice, never tiring of showing her his favourite moves, but also always asking how she was, chatting about her courses and his work. 

Mal was … Ari hadn't met anyone like Mal in a long time, probably ever.

She was faster than Arthur and sneakier than Eames. If she wanted to, she could even stare Saito down but when they chatted after the class, she laughed and joked just as much as Yusuf.

Ari found herself hanging back more and more, looking for excuses to talk to Mal, to have her correct her grip on the knife handle. Those moments when Mal would step up behind her, her breath moving Ari’s hair and her fingers closing around Ari’s, were so exhilarating that Ari could barely suppress her reaction.

At first, she had assumed that she just admired Mal, but after a few weeks, she had to admit to herself that she  _ wanted _ Mal. 

 

“Why don't you just ask her out?” Eames suggested with a grin when they were having a beer in Ari’s favorite bar one evening.

Ari rolled her eyes. “I  _ can't,  _ Eames, she'd never say yes.”

“Well, how do you know that, love?”

She smiled, his Britishness never ceased to be a little endearing. 

“I just … she's Mal, Eames. She's brilliant and beautiful and intelligent and  _ so fucking cool. _ ”

Eames grinned. “So? You are Ari, you're funny and witty and fierce, and also pretty fucking cool.”

Ari poked Eames in the side. “What do you and Yusuf say? Cheers and right back at ya.”

Eames laughed. 

“Seriously though,” Ari continued.

“What if I asked her out and she said no? I’m sure she'd be nice about it, but can you imagine how  _ awkward  _ it would be? Or, worse, what if she said yes and we went out and I just didn't know what to say?” She shuddered.

“Hmm, yes, but what if you went out and had an amazing time and then she took you back to her place and —”

“—Eames,  _ stop _ !”

Ari could feel herself blushing.

Eames grinned wider, obviously pleased that he'd managed to make her uncomfortable. 

“If it's all so easy, why don't you ask  _ Arthur  _ out?”

That wiped the smile off Eames’ face so fast that Ari almost felt bad. Almost.

“That's different,” he mumbled.

“Why?” Ari asked. “He likes you. You  _ obviously  _ like him. You're both cute and kinda dangerous. It's meant to be.”

Eames buried his face in his hands.

“Fine,” he groaned from between his fingers. “We'll both ask them out. For Valentine's day.”

Ari sighed. “Ok, fine. We can't go on being as pathetic as this.” 

 

The 13th of February was a Saturday. Ari couldn't concentrate during the class, making mistakes she hadn't made in weeks. Eames didn't fare much better, if Arthur’s annoyed snapping from behind her was anything to go by.

“Ariadne,” Mal clucked at the end of the hour, when everyone but them had left. “What was the matter with you today?”

Ari could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. “I … uh …”

Mal moved towards her lightning quick, closing both her hands around Ari’s, still holding the knife.

“You need to relax your fingers,  _ chèrie _ ,”

Ari opened her fingers and Mal took the knife from her, placing it in its sheath.

“Come on, we'll try something.”

Mal moved to sit down on the spongy gym floor, gesturing for Ari to sit down with her. “Give me your hands.”

Ari swallowed and extended her hands, feeling Mal’s fingers encircling her wrists. “You need to loosen up, my dear.”

That was much easier said than done, Ari thought drily, but she tried nonetheless, concentrating on her breathing. Mal started to ghost her fingertips over Ari’s palms, feather light touches that left a tingle in their wake.

Ari’s eyes closed of their own accord. Mal’s fingers moved up and down Ari’s forearms, the pressure growing firmer slowly. Ari couldn't keep her breathing in check anymore, her heart was beating fast against her ribcage and her whole body seemed to be alight with  _ something _ , something desperate and everything  _ but _ relaxed.

“Ariadne,” Mal whispered, and her voice sounded so  _ close _ . “Open your eyes.”

Ari did. Mal was directly in front of her, looking at her calmly.  _ So close. _

“Ariadne,” Mal whispered, her breath on Ari’s face mirroring her fingers on Ari’s arms. Ari leaned in.

The kiss was soft, gentle, slow. It felt, in a way, like it was still meant to calm Ari down.  _ No chance of that. _

Ari’s heart was still beating fast and she was aware of every point where Mal was touching her. Carefully, she moved her arms, slipping through Mal’s fingers so that they were both holding onto each other’s upper arms. 

Ari carefully pulled back a little, staring at Mal. Mal smiled at her.

“Is this not what you wanted, Ariadne?”

Ari shook her head slowly. “Of course it's what I want, it's  _ you _ . I just … is this really what  _ you _ want?”

Mal chuckled softly, moving her hands to frame Ari’s face. “My dear. Do you really think I would be doing this if I didn't? I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you.”

Ari swallowed. “Me, too.”

Mal’s grin turned positively wicked.

“What are we doing talking, then?”

Ari moved back in, kissing Mal more fervently now, moving her hands into her silky hair. 

She lost herself in the kisses, in Mal’s taste and her smell, until it was Mal’s turn to pull away, gasping.

“Wait,  _ chèrie _ , let's not do this on the bare floor.” 

Ari leaned her forehead against Mal’s.

“What do you suggest, then?”

Mal smirked. “I brought a blanket, of course.”

“Wha— did you plan for this?”

“ _ Bien sûre, ma petite _ . If I’d waited until you had gotten around to it, we would hardly be here now, would we?”

Ari shrugged and grinned. “Actually, Eames and I had a deal to ask you and Arthur out for Valentine’s today.”

Mal’s eyes lit up. “Oh, wonderful, those two should have been fucking ages ago!”

Ari giggled, then reached for Mal’s bag. “Let's get out that blanket of yours. Or would you rather talk about other people's sex lives?”

Clearly, Mal would not rather talk about other people’s sex lives.

As soon as the blanket was spread out, she pulled Ari down once more, throwing a leg over her hips, straddling her. When she bowed down, her hair tickled Ari’s neck.

“Tell me,” Mal whispered, “have you been thinking about this?”

Ari nodded, too breathless to actually form words.

“What have you been thinking about, my dear?” Mal mouthed at her throat softly, but didn’t do anything else, so she probably expected an answer.

“Um, your … your fingers,” Ari managed, feeling herself blush yet again. 

“My fingers?”

“Yes, I … I saw those pictures of your hands holding the knives, on Twitter, you know, and I just … your hands are …”

Mal laughed, low and throaty and intimate and Ari never wanted her to stop.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Mal whispered into her ear, moving her mouth down, down until her breath was ghosting over the neckline of Ari’s top. “This will have to go.”

Together, they made quick work of each other’s clothing and soon, they were both lying naked on their sides, with Mal’s fingers dancing over Ari’s hip, dipping around to lightly stroke over her stomach. Ari had buried her face in Mal’s neck and was slowly kissing her way downwards, tangling their legs together. When Mal didn’t protest, she cupped her breast and carefully lowered her mouth to her nipple. 

Ari wasn’t used to sex being slow like this. Usually, she prefered quick and urgent, getting it out of her system, so to speak. With Mal, it was different. Finally, she  _ was _ able to relax. Everything seemed almost unnaturally quiet. Instead of a desperate tumble, Ari was aware of every breath, aware of every patch of skin her mouth touched. When she closed her lips over one of Mal’s nipples, she could hear her breathing quicken and feel her hand tighten on Ari’s hip for a second before continuing the featherlight touches. She sucked carefully, almost reverently, and basked in the sound of Mal’s quiet moan. Ari’s hand moved to the other breast, drawing almost lazy circles. She felt like time had stopped, like it was just the two of them — Mal’s fingers strayed from her stomach, dipping lower, between Ari’s legs, and she lost her train of thought. Their movements were still slow, careful, deliberate, but Ari lost all track of time. She kissed and stroked Mal’s breasts for what felt like a long, long time, completely lost in the feel of it, while Mal’s fingers drew tighter and tighter circles, sometimes dipping right into Ari, then returning wet and warm to paint patterns on her thigh. Instead of the usual crash and burn, Ari could feel herself building up just as gently and surely as Mal’s touches. Mal rubbed around and around her clit and Ari was standing on the edge, standing and not falling — until Mal’s lips found her neck once more. 

She knew she must have made some sort of sound, could feel it vibrating through her whole body after she was spent. Ari lifted her face to look up at Mal, unable to do anything but smile, smile like a lunatic, probably. Mal lifted her hand and Ari sucked on her fingers, unwilling to talk yet, unwilling to break this strange magic surrounding them. She licked every last trace of herself off Mal’s hand and then moved her head back down and further. Mal smelt  _ heavenly _ , and Ari let her tongue slip out, trying to mirror the movements of Mal’s fingers on her from before. Mal made a mewling sound and Ari smiled against her, licking and suckling more determinedly. Mal’s hands had moved to her hair and were guiding her head, only a little.

It felt … good. Reassuring. Again, Ari felt like she had all the time in the world and Mal didn’t try to hurry her along, just sighed and occasionally moved her hips, rocking into Ari’s mouth. When she came, it was with barely a sound, but both hands tight in Ari’s hair. It felt perfect.

Ari moved up again and they lay side by side in silence, trading soft kisses and softer smiles and Ari felt completely,  _ ridiculously _ at peace.

Eventually, she cleared her throat. “That was … pretty amazing.”

Mal grinned. “I agree. We should keep doing this.”

“Of course we should,” Ari said, trying to sound just as casual when all she wanted was to jump up and dance, all of a sudden. “It’s not even Valentine’s Day yet, remember? I still have to take you out on a proper date. Who knows, maybe I’ll even cook for you.”

  
  



End file.
